Reviving a Spiderling
by WasianGal
Summary: Peter's been trapped under a frozen lake for far too long. Tony's ready to punish him, until he hears his favorite kiddo struggling to breathe in the arms of Captain America upon arrival to the compound.
1. He's Right Here

_Author's Note: I don't own or profit on anything MCU related. Just loves me some Irondad content...  
_

 _Summary:Peter's been trapped under a frozen lake for far too long. Tony's ready to punish him, until he hears his favorite kiddo's desperate gasps in the arms of Captain America upon arrival to the compound._

 **Reviving A Spiderling**

There are more than a few things Tony wants to scream at Peter as Steve carries the rigid, shivering boy into the Avengers compound one frigid January morning.

 _What were you thinking, jumping into a frozen lake without your suit!?_

 _Why didn't you call for help first?_

 _If Cap hadn't of been there-_

His temper dissipates the moment he hears the string of short and high pitched gasps, coming from Peter's lips as he clenches and unclenches his fists in agony.

"Set him here," Tony orders, throwing down a stack of thick comforters onto the carpet of the grand entryway. He falls to his knees and holds his arms up to receive the teenager.

"Shouldn't we-"

"Give him to me!"

Tony regrets the snap in his voice, but he's well past panic and Bruce hasn't arrived yet. Waiting even another second for the doctor's help was something he was incapable of.

Against his better judgment, Steve hands the smallest Avenger over to Tony's open arms. Peter can barely sit up by himself, so his mentor supports him by propping him up against his chest.

The boy tries to help Tony unzip his coat, but his fingers only hinder the process and are quickly shoved aside.

"Just let me, kid. I've got it." Tony says, shredding the frozen layers off of Peter's shivering frame.

"Arms up."

Peter obeys, but can barely stretch out his limbs as they instinctively curl towards his core.

Tony forces them to straighten the rest of the way and strips off the sweatshirt and T-shirt while Steve kneels down to take off the boy's shoes and socks, helping with pulling off the corduroy pants when the other man struggles a bit with them. Tony is both relieved and terrified that Peter's in too critical a condition to care.

"'-s' cold-s' cold-I can't brea-I can't brea-"

"Hang on, bud. I know. Just a sec." Tony says, keeping a hand on Peter's chest and tossing the last of the clothes into a heap.

There isn't an ounce of warmth in the boy's fair skin and his hair still holds ice crystals in places as it soaks through Tony's shirt.

Steve unfolds one of the white blankets and the two men manage to wrap the boy up burrito style before they're running him to the medical room.

"Talk to me, FRI," Tony calls the AI as they reach their destination. "Give me somethin'."

"The antifreeze building up in his system is too little for a spider's survival and dangerous for the human body. It's poisoning him. I suspect he needs direct heat to revive his normal functions and detract the antifreeze his body is trying to produce."

"Can we put him in a suit?" Tony asks, frantically digging through drawers and pulling out supplies they might need.

"What about a hot bath?" Steve asks.

"I believe the suits are not able to bring his temperature up at a steadier pace and the hot water will likely put his body into a state of shock." FRIDAY replies.

"Put him in that new device you've been working on," a voice says behind them.

"Bruce!" Tony shouts when he sees his friend enter into the room.

"That thing is our best bet." Bruce continues, whipping out a flashlight from his pocket and moving to the bundle moaning in Steve's arms.

He gently pries open one of Peter's eyelids and shines the light into it. "Dilated…"

"I'm not putting the kid into something we haven't even tested out yet," Tony says as he pulls some medical equipment off the nearby wall.

Bruce blinks a few times and studies Tony's set jaw and the way his chest rises and falls like he's been running a freaking marathon.

"Tony," he says in the softest tone he can manage, "It's an incubator…not a time machine. The kid's gonna be just fine."

"It is not an-"

"It's an incubator."

The box-like mechanism had been one of Tony's _just-in-case_ inventions. It's got all kinds of functions intended for burns, radiation, general pain relief and, yes, even hypothermia. And if this device was created directly after meeting this young, bundled up troublemaker, well, that was purely coincidental. And if there were settings for advanced _'Spider-ling'_ needs, just thrown in on a freaking whim, than perhaps that could, very well, save Peter's life at this point in time, but Tony doesn't like it.

Steve watches the two for a moment before he's staring down at Peter, who's currently trying to say something with barely any breath left in his lungs. The Captain squeezes him tight in response. "We need to make a decision. The kid's fading, Tony."

There's a pregnant pause followed by a loud crash echoing off the walls as Tony tosses down the various items he has in his arms and kicks them across the room for good measure.

"Over here," he says in a huff, moving over to the opposite end of the room to a large, clear enclosure with tubes, wires, and soft blue light glowing down inside the device.

Steve has two immediate thoughts: It's definitely an incubator, but it's anything but complete. He's suddenly not really sure if either of his friends is in their right mind.

"Fri, activate the device with everything Peter needs according to what's on his charts," Tony says. "We'll have to work our way up with the temp. Don't blast him with all of it at once."

Steve sets his charge on the ground, but the moment he and Banner expose him to the air, Peter's crying.

Tony grips the side of the glass box and takes a few deep, uneven breaths, hoping that Bruce and Steve stay oblivious to his reaction of what was, in his opinion, the worst sound in the entire world. His feet carry him a few feet away, hands shuffling at things on the counter to make himself look more composed.

"Just a second, Peter," Bruce says, as Steve lifts him back up and eases him down into the device.

Peter fights it the moment he realizes he's being placed in something sterile and foreign, attempting to kick and twist his way out of strong arms.

"I wan' m' dad…Dad!"

Tony's eyes burn upon hearing the delirious request and he quickly shakes out any absurd thoughts that Peter might actually be calling for him.

"He's right here, kid," Steve says.

Tony freezes up; heart pounding hard in his chest as he whirls around and meet's his friend's gaze.

"I'm not who he's looking-"

"Tony, I swear…just don't." Steve says, and as he does Peter stops his struggles when he catches Tony through the glass, glossy brown eyes peering up into the very depths of his being.

Steve lays the kid down the rest of the way and moves to let Tony take over.

"You trying to break my stuff?" Tony asks the boy before grabbing an oxygen mask hanging from up above and pulling it over Peter's mouth and nose.

"Do me a favor and don't bother answering that just yet," he continues, wondering just how conscious the kid is at the moment.

"Listen to me, alright? I'm gonna close this lid here and pretty soon you're gonna be the toastiest…happy little spider that ever saw this side of a winter and-Pete, Petey, don't cry…c'mon, don't do this to me, kiddo."

Tony reaches down and wraps him up as best he can, shushing and whispering things to bring some kind of comfort. His instincts want the boy wrapped up in ten heated blankets, right about now, not sprawled out and exposed in something that looks like a potential torture device to a Star Wars geek.

"It's just heat, bud," he says, taping some monitors to Peter's chest and laying a folded towel under his head for support. "And I'm staying…right here."

He seals the top closed as he finishes the sentence, trying to ignore the way Peter panics as the machine kicks on.

Bruce brings Tony a chair and in just under ten minutes, he watches Peter surrender to sleep, as his body basks in the warmth it needs to survive. He's perfectly still other than the even rise and fall of his chest and the occasional finger twitch.

"Didn't I say he was right here, kid?" Steve murmurs, looking straight at Tony as he does before turning to leave the room. Bruce smiles and follows the first Avenger, deciding to let the pair be alone for a little while.

As Tony hears the door shut, he copes with what he's facing in the only way he knows how.

"You are so grounded."


	2. Hey, Underoos

_A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this little baby ficlet. On to more Irondad love!_

Chapter 2:

It's four hours into Peter's treatment when F.R.I.D.A.Y informs them that he is now out of the critical stage and should be transferred to a hospital bed with warm IV infusions for the remainder of the recovery period.

"Stoooop," Peter whines, shoving away Tony's hands when they try to move him from his comfortable position. "-just wanna sleep, Mr. Stark."

"Trust me, kid; you are gonna go right back to la-la land the moment I get you across the room," Tony replies, relieved to see he recognizes him, even in such a poor state.

Taking Peter out of the heated invention is almost harder than it is getting him inside of it.

Steve insists he be the one to lift him as he watches his friend struggle with manhandling the boy, but Tony carries on anyway.

"You getting this, kid? Grandpa Cap's trying to push me into an early retirement."

Hearing the strain in his voice, Peter squashes down the exhaustion and attempts to wrap his arms around Tony's neck.

"That's my buddy. I gotcha," Tony says as he shifts his charge out of the glass case, smirking at Steve victoriously.

"I'm still the favorite."

"Well, you're his dad, so…" Steve smirks when a blush rises to Tony's face as he rolls his eyes, sniffs and pivots around him.

Bruce enters just then; his mission accomplished with a stack of Tony's comfiest clothes.

' _He's already had to endure four hours in his birthday suit; I'll spare him the shame of another twelve in a paper dress.'_ Tony had said before sending him off minutes ago.

The fact that Peter's becoming more alert by the second drives his mentor to move faster before self awareness becomes problematic. The last thing he needs right now is the kid falling and injuring himself just as he's starting to bounce back.

Grabbing a shirt off the pile in Bruce's arms, he pulls it over Peter's head while Steve holds him in place. The kid pushes his arms through the sleeves out of instinct alone and then tries to droop backwards, growling when someone doesn't allow it. "Better get the rest on quick or he might give the Hulk a run for his money," Steve says with a chuckle.

"I think I might die," Peter says so suddenly that all three men startle.

Tony drops the clothes and lifts up the boy's chin, adrenaline pouring back in his veins as he checks for something overlooked. "Pete, talk to me. What hurts? What's going on?"

Peter's head sags backward to look up at Steve, coffee colored eyes eventually falling back to Bruce and Tony. "Do I…reall' gotta explain m'self righ'now?"

Realization dawns on their faces as everyone exchanges awkward glances. Because Ironman, Captain America and Hulk putting on your undergarments is about the most embarrassing scenario any of them can come up with, and yeah they'd probably want to die if they were in his position too.

"Listen, Banner's a doctor. It's nothing he hasn't seen already," Tony begins, scrambling for more silver linings to attach with, what would probably be marked down as, the worst day of Peter's existence in a secret journal somewhere later on. "…and Cap was in the Army…I'm sure he's dealt with many a physical check up…war wounds?" Steve eagerly nods his head as he reads the _'Help me!'_ written all over Tony's face.

"Not helping," Peter moans, resting an arm over his eyes, "Can you please…jus-"

The billionaire doesn't wait for him to finish, not wanting to drag out the kid's suffering any more than he has to.

Peter swallows when he feels Tony grabbing one of his ankles and then the other, slipping them through a pair of briefs. He keeps his eyes screwed shut when he feels the soft material brushing up his legs and sliding beneath his backside. Nightmare now complete, Peter feels the blessed warmth of a blanket covering over him, but it does nothing for the shame leftover.

He doesn't fight it when Tony gently pries his arm away from his face, but he's still not ready to look at his mentor. _Why did they have to wake him up?_ Tears of exhaustion soon slip down, pooling into his ears as he listens to the other two caretakers murmur in hushed tones in the background.

"Hey, Underoos."

Peter's arm rips away from Tony and returns to its place upon hearing the perfectly timed nickname.

"….s'not even…remotely funny, Mr. Stark," he murmurs, feeling the corners of his mouth turning upward as he shakes his head from side to side; but Tony's ridiculous giggles are infectious, and it's soon bubbling forcefully out of him as well. More tears follow and he truly doesn't know if they're from embarrassment or the silent laughter that's now wracking his weakened frame.

Peter wishes it would keep going, but silence returns the moment they're both trying to catch their breath.

"Can I sleep now?"

"After you look at me."

Peter pauses and takes a deep breath; Tony allows him the time he needs.

The arm comes down, slowly but surely, and bloodshot eyes finally find the courage to stare up at his hero.

"Hi," Tony says as he leans closer to examine the shy face.

"Hi," Peter replies, and he feels stupid the moment he does.

"Bruce has got a nice, warm IV infusion with your name on it when you're ready," Tony can't stop himself from patting Peter's chest…can't keep from running a thumb across those flushed cheeks.

"C'mon, Pete. It's me," he says with a sigh, smoothing the boy's hair back a few times, though he feels it's not his role to do so.

"Because it's you," Peter whimpers, lip trembling as he glances over to the window and back.

"I know I'm still just a little kid in your eyes."

 _My kid…_

"You're always having to clean up my mess-"he continues.

"Hey-" Tony cuts in with a warning tone.

"I'm jus' a giant screw up."

"Alright, that's enough-"

"Now you're even having to dress me!" Peter cries out, his whole body shaking as he forces the words out.

"Because it's YOU!" Tony shouts, making Peter jump and release a floodgate of tears.

The fact that Bruce and Steve are turning to watch makes everything that much worse.

"You listen up…No. Nope. Eyes on me, kid." the billionaire says.

He forces his charge to meet his gaze and squashes down the urge to wrap Peter up in his arms when the boy's bottom lip quivers skyward.

' _You're scaring him.'_ Tony tells himself, _'Don't be like your dad-Don't be like your dad-Don't be-'_

"Buddy, I don't really give a crap what it says on your birth certificate…or what your Aunt May has to say about it…I don't even care what you think," his voice cracks on the last few words.

He pauses there….because in all actuality he cares way too much about what he's about to reveal and he's suddenly so scared that his love will, undoubtedly, bleed out of him because of it, and it may, very well, push the kid away.

"You're my boy."

Peter's shocked expression makes his mentor sniff in amusement. He feels like bursting when he hears the precious two-word reply.

"I am?"

Tony straightens himself for a moment and stares at the ceiling, clearing his throat and slipping off his shoes before scooting Peter's frail body over just a little to the left. There are so many things he could say…a cluster of one-liners await their turn on his tongue, but none of them are worthy enough for so pure a moment.

Climbing onto the hospital bed is risky. Scooping the kid into his arms is even riskier, but his gamble pays off. Peter doesn't even hesitate to cling and snuggle into his chest the moment he realizes what's happening. It's as if the kid's been waiting for this his entire life, and despite how cold Peter still feels against him, Tony's melting into a puddle of paternal goo because of it.

"Do I really need to explain myself right now?" Tony asks, imitating the kid's dramatic line from a bit ago and he feels Peter respond with a smile against his shirt.

The sound of Velcro erupts from behind them as Bruce appears to their left, a mixture of affection and duty painting his features as he gently lifts one of Peter's arms and wraps a blood pressure monitor around his bicep. "Hate to, uh, break this up," he says, gesturing to them both with a wide sweep of his hand, "…but we gotta get that IV in you, pal."

"Still got some thawing to do," Steve adds, slapping Tony on the shoulder as the pair share something unspoken when their eyes meet.

Bruce has the needle in and fluids coursing through Peter's veins in under two minutes. The warmth it provides, coupled with Tony's body heat, pacifies the heightened teen. His head eventually sinks downward, but Tony catches it and returns him back to his chest, keeping a hand there to ensure it doesn't happen again. "Night, Petey Pie," he whispers, eventually surrendering to a nap as well.

Peter ends up sleeping well through the night. It's almost sixteen hours later when he finally wakes, turning to look out the window at the swirling snowflakes pelting the glass and piling up at the sill.

He remembers the cold…wanting to tear at his clothes when the ice stings his skin like a legion of wasps.

Captain America had rescued him...carried him in his great big arms…

And Mr. Stark…Mr. Stark…Mr. Stark…

Peter lets out a pained and drawn out groan as all of yesterday's events come flooding back into his memory. He glances down to see he's still wearing Tony's clothes and any hopes he had of it all being just a dream are instantly dashed to the ground.

' _You're my boy.'_

The teenager freezes and bolts up in bed, pressing a palm to his temple when it throbs from the movement.

 _Had he really said that? There's no way Mr. Stark had said that._

Another gasp escapes him. _Had he seriously spent all of last night cuddled into Iron Man's arms?_

 _That part's a dream. That part's TOTALLY just a dream. There's no freaking way-_

"It's aliiiiiive." Tony enters the room just then with a tray of hot food and sets it on a table next to the hospital bed. "Or…deer in the headlights, maybe? You've been out for quite awhile, kid," the billionaire adds, leaning down to plant a kiss on top of Peter's head before plopping himself in the chair.

He rolls it closer to the bed while the boy continues to stare blankly back at him, mouth slightly open as if he's processing something beyond comprehension.

"Hello, Hello?" Tony tries snapping this time, pleased when it pulls the kid from his trance.

"I wasn't dreaming?" Peter murmurs.

"Forget it kid," Tony interjects and it makes the boy's heart drop a little. "All of it…"

Peter swallows and stares down at his blanket. Maybe his mentor had given him special treatment because he had come so close to death. That wasn't such a stretch to imagine…just comfort from a superhero…a mentor's words to soothe a child.

"…except the Kodak moment we had after I pulled up your drawers. That you can keep,"

"Kodak moment?"

"Seriously?" Tony replies, feeling his age more than ever, "Okay, we'll save it for another day."

Peter's hanging on the man's every word; waiting for something to click…seeking for proof that Tony really and truly wants him.

"The stuff I said yesterday," His mentor starts, "…this whole…father son thing we've got going on, it's about time we went public with it, don't you think?"

Peter's suddenly having to hold himself back by pressing his lips together and wringing his hands in his lap because of the joy currently abounding in his soul. His efforts are commendable, but Tony clearly sees the fireworks going off above his head and he gives the boy a genuine grin.

"Come here, kiddo," he says, and Peter falls on him, arms latched over strong shoulders as he allows himself to believe that he really does have a dad, and his name is Tony Stark.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too, Pete."

…..


	3. Daddy Warbucks

A/N: Guuuuys, I really wish this finale had something for you…other than irondaddy/spiderbaby squishy, sugary, mush, but let's be honest…that's where this all started anyway! (I'lll have to write something angsty and suspenseful next time just to redeem myself.) I want to thank all of you for your sweet and wonderful reviews and for simply reading my work.

Part 3

….

Peter is drenched in sweat by the time he makes it back to the hospital bed around 6:30am, the next morning.

' _Don't even think about stepping a toe off of this thing without me or somebody else helping you out,'_ Tony's last orders still ring perfectly clear in the back of the teenager's mind.

He truly had made every effort to not disobey the man's instruction, but his bladder demanded the exact opposite and it's still much too early to bother anyone with his silly bathroom needs.

He's still ball and chain to the IV they stuck him with the day before and maneuvering and untangling himself from such a simple piece of equipment makes him even more winded.

"Ugh, this sucks," he breathes out, clutching his chest and bringing a knee up onto the mattress.

 _Footsteps…_

 _He knows exactly who they belong too…_

 _Crapcrapcrapcrap_

Chest heaving, he somehow manages to pull himself up the rest of the way, setting his head back down on the pillow and pulling the blankets up to his chest right at the exact moment the door flies open and in walks Mr. Stark.

 _He knows-He knows- He knows._

"Hey Champ… you're up," the billionaire comments with a smile. Peter's wide eyes follow him as his mentor walks briskly towards the room's many cabinets, taking a sip of the black coffee in his hand.

"Y-yeah…I…uh…ssa-just a bit ago…actually."

Tony stops what he's doing at the stuttered response, setting the mug down on the counter before turning about face.

Peter gulps when dark eyes squint at him, but the casual walk towards the bed is ten times worse.

"Ya having some trouble breathing there, Pete?" Tony asks, hovering over the boy and looking straight down at him.

"I…uh-a little, but it's not that bad-"

"And your hair is sticking to the sides of your face because…..?"

"…because…I…I… just had this really bad dream!"

"Bad dream, huh?"

"Ye-yeah…really, really, bad one."

"Hate those."

"Y-yeah, me too…really…really…hate 'em."

Peter pulls the covers up higher, feeling somewhere between nauseous and panic stricken. The weakness in his body begs to be noticed as well and he almost hopes he'll pass out to escape Tony's piercing gaze.

"Well…..on an _entirely_ different note," his mentor starts, backing away slightly, but maintaining eye contact, "Bruce will be up here in a few minutes."

"Doctor Banner?" Peter asks. "Why?"

"Oh…He's just gonna go over the basics of getting a catheter in you. You know…so you don't have to worry about getting up without assistance anymore."

Tony almost feels remorse when he sees the look on Peter's face. _Almost._

"W-w-w-wait! Mr. Stark, wait! I don't need a-I'm not-Don't let him-"

Bruce walks in just then and Peter lets out a scream, blankets flying around as he moves to grip Tony's waist like a life raft.

"No-no-no-no-no, I'm sorry, Mr. Stark! I'll never do it again, I swear! I swear! Please, please, don't let him do it."

Bruce's brow furrows in confusion, wondering why in the heck his patient is looking at him like he's suddenly turned into the other guy.

"Tony, what did you say to the kid?"

"Oh, just what he needed to hear," Tony replies, gripping the back of Peter's neck as the boy stares up at him like a kicked puppy. "…That you're a good doctor and that I'm sure you'll do _EVERYTHING_ in your power to make sure he gets better."

The kid's eyes almost kill him, if he's honest, so he turns to look back at Bruce instead.

"Okay?" his friend replies, scratching at his chin while he glances back and forth between the pair. "I'm just gonna…get another IV going for you, pal."

Tony turns back to Peter; the boy slowly releases his arms from around the man's waist, falling back a bit before glancing back up for an explanation.

"Alright I lied about the catheter. You know, another one of those tough love moments you sorely needed…but, I swear, kiddo, that is exactly what's gonna happen if you keep this up," the billionaire says, paternal instincts spiking when he watches Peter clutch his chest and breathe slowly through his nose. "What part of leftover antifreeze pockets clustered around your heart and lungs wasn't crystal clear to you?"

"Okay, okay, Mr. Stark. I get it; I'll ask you from now on," Peter says, putting out his hand and waving it up in surrender.

Tony dismisses the twinge of disappointment he feels upon hearing the formal name. It shouldn't surprise him at all; the kid would have to warm up to calling him anything different. At the very least, they had established they loved eachother. That was more than he could've ever asked for ….something unimaginable when he was Peter's age.

"You know, you're not too old to spank," he says then, grabbing the boy's airborne fingers and pulling them against his chest.

"Dad…"

Tony tenses up, lips parted with absolutely nothing to say as he stares down at what was steadily becoming his entire world.

"I'm okay," Peter murmurs, squeezing his fingers weakly around the calloused hand that's still holding on to his. "I'm gonna be fine."

' _Keep it together, Tony…Keep it together for the love of-'_

"Okay, Peter, let's get you set up here," Bruce says suddenly, taking down the empty IV bag and replacing it with another. "Another few days of bed rest and you'll be on your feet again."

Tony takes a deep breath and resets himself, more than a little grateful to his friend for the interruption. This kid's gaining way too much power over his emotions, and if he ever figures this out, it's over. The thought makes him hide a smile, despite it being a giant disadvantage.

As soon as Bruce is done with his work, Tony moves back to the nearby counter, reaching up above to grab a wash basin down from the top shelf. "Don't take this the wrong way, kid, but your hair is screaming for attention," he says as he grabs a white towel and throws it over his shoulder. "-Bruce says you can take a shower in a few days, but I think you'll feel a little more human if we wash your head at least."

Peter rolls his eyes and turns the other way as he sees the basin filling up with hot water. The urge to whine is there, but it will only make him feel more pathetic than he already is. "Man, I hated being treated like a kid…but this baby stuff…I just…"

"' _Cannot even'_?" Tony interjects, laughing when it makes Peter glare.

"C'mon, count your blessings. Little longer under that frozen lake and we'd be changing your diapers too."

It's said in jest, but Tony shudders inside at just how close he had come to nearly losing his kiddo to something so simple.

Wash basin filled, Tony carries it over and puts it next to the bed, setting a rinsing cup and a travel size bottle of shampoo that he'd been storing in his pocket beside it.

"Earlier, you mentioned you were feeling ashamed because it's me," he says when Peter doesn't reply. "I don't wanna make you feel uncomfortable, kid. If you'd rather have Banner-"

"No," Peter interrupts, shaking his head, "You can do it…I mean, if you really want to…even though it's super embarrassing…and probably a hassle for you,"

"Ugh, the worst," Tony says, pushing a button to lower the bed down flat. "I don't even know why I bother, to be honest…civic duties, I guess."

Peter sniffs and gives a shy smile, fingers fiddling with the blanket threads at his side.

Tony carefully replaces the pillow with the basin, lifting up Peter's head and placing it into the neck rest just above the water before wetting the teen's chestnut tresses. "Too hot?"

"-'s perfect." Peter mumbles, closing his eyes in contentment.

As he feels the cold shampoo hit his scalp, he's suddenly struck with the mere fact that this man…this legend whom he's adored since early childhood…, who once seemed completely out of reach to a poor kid living in Queens, was now washing his greasy hair and threatening to spank him. He can't keep from giggling at such absurdity.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Tony says.

Peter opens his eyes and studies the man's face, grinning from ear to ear, "I was just thinking if someone had told my seven-year old self that Iron Man would be washing my hair for me in the not so distant future, I would've never believed them."

Tony tugs playfully on a few soapy strands and Peter winces but the giggles only grow louder.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," he laughs, eyes going wide as he fails miserably at staying serious. "Sheesh, It's already too late, isn't it? I've completely spoiled the Spider-baby."

"Not a baby."

"Are to."

The door opens again and Pepper stands there at the entrance with a tray full of food, head tilted in utter fascination.

"Oh. Hi, Ms. Potts," Peter says, when he catches her out of the corner of his eye.

"Hi, Sweetie," she replies, never once taking her eyes off Tony…because if Tony Stark…thee Tony Stark whom she knows inside and out was truly here, washing this precious boy's hair, well then, she fully expects to look out the window and catch a few pigs fly by, complete with glittery, feathered wings.

Tony prepares for all kinds of different things to come out of his woman's lips as she continues to watch on, but perhaps she's saving them all for later when Peter won't have to be included in her barrage of teases.

"Make sure you feed him too," is all she dares to say, gesturing to the steaming bowl of oatmeal before walking back out into the hall.

 _He was toast._

' _You wanted to go public,'_ he reminds himself. Pepper's most likely on her way to share her findings with the team right this minute.

Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist?

More like surrogate, protector, mentor, Daddy Warbucks.

He can hear it all now….

As he rinses the last of the soap from Peter's hair, he shrugs it off. This kid was worth it from the very beginning and he'd never put something as fleeting as image in front of his son. He would never stoop to that level. Flashes of his father's grim mask slice their way into his thoughts, but Peter's big yawn rescues him before it can consume his mind and heart.

"Breakfast first, then you're going right back to sleep," he says to the boy.

Peter doesn't even protest as Tony removes the bin and places a towel over his head, rubbing over the teen's scalp until his curls are sticking up every which way. _Adorable?_ That didn't begin to describe what Tony's looking at right now.

Is this what it was to be unabashedly biased?

Was this what possessed all those ridiculous parents to plaster tacky "My Child is an Honor Student" bumper stickers to the back of their minivans? Because what's lying here before him is enough to send the billionaire down to his enormous garage right this second and stick one on each and every vehicle he owns.

Twenty minutes later, the breakfast tray sits empty and Peter struggles to stay upright with stomach full and his body good and ready for another round of rest.

"D-dad?" Peter says as Tony wraps the blankets back over the boy. "Is it really okay…to call you dad? It doesn't like…weird you out or anything?"

Tony grabs the boy's chin and shakes it gently, amused when the kid's pale face turns pink.

"I hate it when you _don't_ call me dad," Tony says with a fake pout, "I thought we went over this yesterday. Do I need to have Bruce check your head again?"

Peter shakes his head as another yawn escapes him. "No, sir," he says through it.

"Good boy," Tony replies, ruffling the teen's damp locks.

"Dad," Peter says again, pink hue brightening, "C-could you a…maybe just stay a little bit longer?"

Tony doesn't hesitate. This kid is starved…absolutely desperate for something he's lacked for most of his life. He knows…he's faced the same starvation. His emaciated soul had begged for nourishment far longer than this child would ever have to endure. He would not deny Peter even another moment of what he needed.

"Scoot," he orders, helping the boy when he tries to lift his sluggish limbs. He's not even fully on the bed before Peter's tucking himself under his chin and burrowing into his black cotton t-shirt. _Yep…starved._

He swears right then and there to make up for every bit of lost time.

It doesn't matter how old Peter is or will be; as far as he's concerned, that seven year old boy still trapped beneath the surface is who's really lying here curled up in his arms and if someone wanted to challenge him on spoiling the teenager, he's fully prepared to fight them to the bitter end.

"Pete, ease up just a bit, buddy," Tony chuckles into the kid's hair, taking a few deep breaths when he can breathe again.

"S-sorry," Peter replies, but the billionaire's shushing him even as he says it, "You know I hate that word."

"Sorry."

"Grounded," Tony says, flicking Peter on the forehead.

"Ow!"

"You deserved that."

Peter burrows into him a little more and Tony chuckles. "That's it. Your new nickname is Little Foot," he says, "Please tell me you've seen that movie…Land Before Time?"

Peter's eyebrows knit together and Tony gives a loud sigh.

"Well, I have," Peter says, "…but why am I Little Foot?" He's even more curious as to why Tony's seen such a movie, but he saves the burning question for another time.

"Come on, first five minutes into the movie, those precious little snuggle scenes? That's you, kid." Tony replies.

Peter gives him a playful slap but he can't deny the truth in it, so he hides his face.

As the old movie plays back in his head, he's suddenly reminded of all the emotions he felt as a child watching it for the first time. He had shed great big tears and clutched tightly to Aunt May's sweater as Little Foot begged and begged for his mother to get back up…but she never did.

He doesn't know why he's suddenly curling his fingers tighter into Tony's shirt…can't explain why such a thought would trigger such overwhelming fear into his heart.

"Don't go," Peter whispers, embarrassed when it reaches his mentor's ears.

"Pete, I'm not going anywhere."

"No…I mean…don't ever leave me, dad. You can't-"

"I'm never gonna leave you, bud. You're stuck with me forever,"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

...

A/N: So….I have A LOT of feelings…and I am terrified for Avengers 4….*sobs*

Please leave a review or comment and thank you SO much for reading!


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